Coming Up For Air
by aka-elsie-snuffin
Summary: All it takes is one explosion for everything to come into sharp focus. All the misunderstandings, missed moments, hurt feelings, all of it is forgiven in that instance. One shot.
A/N: Something short, based off the previews for DiNozzo's last episode. I'm sure there are five trillion of these coming out but hopefully this is original enough. Two longer stories are in the works, all based around a Tony/Ziva reunion.

All it takes is one explosion for everything to come into sharp focus. All the misunderstandings, missed moments, hurt feelings, all of it is forgiven in that instance.

It is as if he was underwater and now he has come up for air. But it might be too late.

He stares at the tv screen, watching her childhood home burn. Somehow, the delicate gold Star of David necklace is in his hand - he must have gotten it out of his desk drawer at some point. It has been there for more than two years, almost undisturbed save for a few late nights when he is alone and allows himself to feel the loneliness.

It is his anchor now, keeping him from drifting away with all the newfound oxygen. Or from drowning in the resulting panic.

She can't be dead. He would feel it.

Or would he? He had thought that she was dead before. He can't remember now if he felt her death. Not that it matters. He went on a suicide mission to avenge her death and found her alive.

How many times does she get to cheat death?

He should be doing something. The bullpen is buzzing with activity. Instead, he is hypnotized by the news footage coming out of Tel Aviv. The tv is saying that there may be a body inside. The numbness is setting into his bones, a defensive measure to keep him from feeling too much.

Earlier in the day, before the clarity, he had spoken with Adam Eschel. He hasn't seen or spoken to her in a year. That's more recently than Tony, but hardly helpful information. And this explosion won't have changed any of that.

It takes Gibbs slapping a file down loudly on his desk and calling his name to break him out of hypnosis. He relays the non-information he has in a monotone, rubbing the thin gold chain between his fingers.

And then he realizes that she might be dead and he is just standing there. He has always been a man of action, except when it came to her. But with the moment of clarity comes a new resolve. No more hesitation, no more waiting for the right moment.

It may be too late. But it may not.

"I can't stay here," he says, more to himself than anyone.

But Gibbs hears. "I know," he tells him.

"If that's Ziva…" he continues, but he can't put voice behind the rest of his sentence.

"I know," Gibbs repeats.

He hears McGee say something about a flight to Tel Aviv and inbox and four hours. "Go!" Gibbs repeats. An order.

He understands orders. He springs into action. He grabs his gear and heads for the elevators.

He doesn't remember driving home. For all he knows, he floated back to his apartment.

He has packed for an international trip more times than he can remember. He packs his well worn tan bag on auto-pilot, trying to keep himself together amidst his father's well intentioned prattling.

Finally he snaps. "Dad, I am falling apart, so could you just..." He trails off. Senior has known the loss of a true love and he backs off. He thanks the older man, who smiles kindly and puts a hand on his shoulder.

The doorbell. Undoubtedly McGee or Abby to drive him to the airport. His father shuffles to answer the door. He looks around his bedroom, making sure he has everything he needs. The gold necklace is tucked safely in a pocket, ready to head back to its rightful owner.

"Uh, son?" Senior calls from the door.

He picks up his bag and leaves the sanctuary of his bedroom. The next time he is there, he will know for sure if she is alive or not.

He looks up as he heads to the front door and stops cold.

It's her.

He blinks, makes sure she is not a mirage. He shakes his head a little, then looks toward Senior, making sure the older man sees her, too. She doesn't seem to be a hallucination.

She's really there. Five feet from him. Her eyes are worried and tired, her hair wild. There is a bag at her feet.

"Tony..." she starts. But before she can say anything else, he drops his bag, bridges the gap with one long stride and crushes her in his arms.

He feels her hesitate, then relax into his touch and slip her arms around his waist. He bends his neck to bury his face in her curls. "I thought you were dead," he whispers, his voice hoarse with emotion.

"I'm okay," she whispers back needlessly, obviously.

He should let her go, find out how much she knows about what is going on. But he keeps holding on, needing to feel her. She makes no attempt to extricate herself from his embrace either.

Senior grins and heads off to the bedroom to give them some privacy. Tony doesn't notice.

Finally, he wills his arms to let go. When his eyes meet hers and sees that her eyes are wet, tears spring to the corners of his eyes as well. "I was on my way to you," he explains.

"Even though you thought I was dead?" she asks.

"Yes."

She smiles through her tears.

 _Couldn't live without you, I guess_.

THE END.


End file.
